Just like the classic carnival games, the food industry is rigged in one way or another. Lately, corporations and investors have been practicing different methods of creating "cash cows" (ha ha, pun!) from different aspects of human life. Food is one of the biggest industry, and if you ask your Grandma or Grandpa, things were different then! Food used to be traditional and farmers were farmers, not scientists. Now it's a business.

The way the rest of the consumers and I can change this, is by investing more in locally grown food. Sure not everyone is going to go out of their way to do this, but at least research what you eat. Information is key here. Knowing what you eat, and not just accepting it for what it is makes you a healthy eater. That is how this whole system can change.

Honestly, I don't believe that the average American would enjoy being spied on, yet the Patriot Act justifies it by mentioning that it'll pick out all the bad apples from our populous. But how? Under what assumption? Sure, there are judges to go through. Agents themselves are also required to provide reasonable evidence before any “bugging” can begin. Surely, we can trust our fellow government workers to decide who gets to be followed and who doesn't. Can we not?

Before freaking out and checking your walls for microphones, cameras and other things of the sort, let's understand what kind of people are the ones being tracked. Who the Patriot Act follows isn't common people like you and I. The average American isn't going to be followed, regardless of ethnicity, gender, or religion. Tourists, suspects, and other people that are actively moving in and out of the country are possible victims of the Patriot Act. The law is dedicated to keeping surveillance over sketchy and dishonest characters, and preventing them from possibly committing a dangerous crime that could breach the security of this country.

My personal opinion on the matter is that we still need the Patriot Act. I don't agree with the out government spying on people, especially using suspicion as a way to track down potential terrorists. But, like any good parent that wants the best for their children, they'll do what is necessary to protect their children (let's hope). Citizens of this country shouldn't be alarmed, this so-called “spying” isn't anything new. It has been going on for years. And as long as you feel comfortable living the life you currently are living, I'd say don't worry about the government or the Patriot Act. It's for the best.

Something things that have been tested or experimented happened with Darwin and his exploration. He began this world known theory when he started to explore how different genes work and the processes in which they create new life forms.

The Earth is approximately 4.6 billion years old and humans appeared within the last-2 million years. Microorganisms appeared first - 3.4 million years ago. The plants of the land appeared about 400 million years ago and it was about 225 million years ago when mammals and dinosaurs walked the earth. Which evolves into the topic of Natural selection which acts upon the mutation that are inherited from one generation to the next. Out of all the type of  genes there are only the genes in the sperm cell will get passed on to the future generations. Thus causing any potential alter to the configuration of any population. Enabling us to keep track of how things change over time, which is what we call Evolution.

Sample Questions

1. In what ways would an animal that eats earthworms with its beak evolve to eat berries off a tree?
a. It’s beak would get smaller for more precise grabbing.
b. They will change color to resemble a tree.
c. Their claws will be able to cling on trees.
d. Nothing will change.

2. An animal that lived in water and adapted to live on land, would most likely be a:
a. amphibian
b. invertebrate  
c. Cold - blooded
d. Reptiles

I have many beautiful memories of this past year. My knowledge of the world has not only expanded, but my views of what goes on in planet Earth have changed as well. During my year in both English 2 and World History, I was introduced to many subjects that I could’ve ignored if it wasn’t for school. One of them was inequality. Inequality is defined by Dictionary.com to be a “Difference in size, degree, circumstances, etc.;”. I find this to be an accurate definition for the world we currently live in. An Op-Ed I wrote earlier in the year has a lot of the points I thought to be very important when pitching ideas to make the world a more equal place. 
    Here’s one quote from that Op-Ed: “We could go for a social-political view like Marxism or such, that can give the people actual power in their government. Many of them are possible solutions to inequality in the world. Too many beliefs and righteousness is in jeopardy for other people for them to agree with this.”
    A year ago I couldn’t see myself writing about things like this. After reading through some of my stuff from this year, I can’t help but think that some of the reason the world is like this is my fault. I try to be the best person I can possibly be. When there are moments in life where I think I did something wrong or unacceptable, I usually try to fix it. But things like this, that affect the world or a society, I want to take the blame for it because I’m not doing anything at all. I could be making a change in the world or have an interest in something. 
    A few more things, the 2010 - 2011 school year has been an excellent one for me. I have not only grown in age, but in experience. Experiences from opportunities given to me from events, work, and especially people. "We have to be simple minded when it comes to changing personalities slightly. Think too much, and we might change the character completely." this quote is from my Literary Lenses Explanation. We took the book: “Their Eyes were Watching God”, and looked at it through different views (Feminism, Marxism, etc.).

The biggest message I took away from this year's classes was that there will always be inequality in the world. Yes, we can try to make it a better place and all that stuff, but there will always be an opposition with it's followers going against the point that both you and I know is right. Then I learned another thing, just because I'm just one person doesn't mean I should stop doing something I know is right. Many people in history have done magnificent things on their own and with the support of people. I'm positive I'll be one of them one day, if something ever comes up in the world that I strongly disagree with, I will make my voice be heard. Not only that but I would've been part of something way bigger, and that's how you fight something bigger. You fight it with support and numbers (amounts of people). 

Characters

Charles - A host of a late night talk show. He’s a male in his 40s, mild-mannered, funny, knows when to be serious about things.

Ellen - A young 15-year-old girl living in Arizona. She has a rebellious mind and talks to her stuffed bear.

Subcomandante Marcos – Spokesman for the Zapatista. He is a rebel and a philosopher; he fights for the rights of the indigenous people in México.

Javier Garcia – Mayor of the fictional city of Monte Negro. He is a man with power and is disgusted with the rebels in his city. He has a soft side for his family.

Inez – A young indigenous girl in Chiapas, she talks with her doll when she wants to understand something.

ACT 1 – Scene 1

(Charles enters stage, fixes himself up while looking and the audience. He begins to talk to them in a friendly, yet assertive voice.)

CHARLES
Hey everybody! How has your day been? ... Well, today I was on CNN and you know, I started looking through the news... I read this article that my friend sent me, it was about the prime minister of India. He’s been accused of scamming around $31 billion dollars from India’s treasury. Anyway Prime Minister Manmohan Singh says he’s innocent, and it got me thinking.
   Don’t we hear about things like this all the time? I mean, it’s either companies or governments that always do this kind of crap. Now, I’m not blaming the prime minister for what he might have done, but the average person has developed this... thought, a thought about governments and companies having control over humans like you and me. It makes people seem insignificant.

(Looks down at the floor to ponder a moment, start looking up as he starts talking again)

Here’s another thing I want to say: People don’t stand up for themselves!

(He starts talking more aggressively)

If people fought united for a cause, anything, I bet they would achieve their goal and it would benefit mankind. You might be saying “Well Charles, aren’t there organizations trying to benefit mankind already?” Yeah, but I’m not talking about getting a signature from a lazy citizen who sits on their ass all day, supporting a kid in Africa by sending monthly payments.

(He talks a bit more calmly, with a sentimental feeling)

That’s not help, that’s financial aid!
   There are some people who stand up for themselves... um....

(He does a hand motion as if he was remembering something)

The Zapatista! Who knows about them? ... A few of you might...

(He looks away from the camera)

Do we have any pictures of a Zapatista?

(A picture of a margarita appears for the audience)

No! A Zap-A-Ti-STA! Not a Margarita!

(Picture of Subcomandante Marcos appears for the audience)

Anyway for those who don’t know, the Zapatista are revolutionaries, doesn’t mean they go shooting up every other place they go to... they only use their guns for self-defense. * They’ve never attacked first. Their goal is basically make it a fair game, not only for the indigenous people they’re helping, but also for all of Mexico. The indigenous people they’re helping have the same trouble as many indigenous people in any country, adapting to the new world. Just like when your mother-in-law moves in with you...

(Shrugs)

It’s tough! I’d start a revolution too, if she ever came back!

(Shakes fist in the air)
 
Anyway, Corporations and governments take away their land, and indigenous people have a hard time being looked at equally compared to the modern new world citizen.

Going back to 1994,NAFTA (North American Free Trade Agreement) was made to make a free trade system with Mexico, Canada and the United States. It was a great way to get Canadian bacon to your local Denny’s.

(He gets closer to the audience/camera and whispers)

It’s HAM!

(Goes back to original position and resumes monologue)

But seriously folks, NAFTA came with its downsides. NAFTA actually ended up abolishing Article 27, section 7 of the Mexican constitution, which had the indigenous people’s land no longer protected by the law.

(Looks at audience with a serious look.)

Don’t you hate it things like that happen? Talk about a buzz kill... It feels like finding out you wet your nice clean bed the day you just cleaned your sheets by yourself. For most of you that was after you left moms house right?

(He squints and points to a random adult in the audience)

Yes, I’m talking about you!

Anyway back to the subject that’s one of the many reasons the Zapatista want fight for their cause. It’s funny... In other parts of the world, there are people that would want to have a modern revolution in order to help people and change the way their government works. Here in this good country, we complain about EVERYTHING and are either too frightened or too lazy to do it, and expect one person, our president, to change the world for us. Last time I checked, America was the people’s country, not the responsibility of one man or woman. It’s us who have to revolutionize the world!

(He grabs a nearby chair, stands on top of it)

We the people of the world can unite and overthrow this super power controlling our world!

(In a louder voice, almost yelling)

For the world and for the human race! Freedom and equality for all!

(He steps down from the chair slowly, fixes his suit’s cuffs. Coughs and fixes his voice)

Ahem!

(He is clasping both hands together, in front of his chest.)

So I leave you with this thought, how are you making the world a better place?

ACT 1 – Scene 2

(Ellen is holding her stuffed bear is lying in bed with it, while looking up at the ceiling)

ELLEN
Hey bob! You wouldn’t mind listening to my rambling right?

(Gets comfy)

Great! Listen, don’t you think life is a bit boring? It’s the same thing, day in and day out, school, home, work. There’s no purpose. I want there to be a purpose for me to get up in the morning. I want to aspire for something; I don’t want to waste my life for 7 hours a day at school thinking I’m not contributing anything to the world!  I remember in history class, our teacher was telling us about people that made changes in our history. Many of them weren’t educated to begin with, but as we went forward in history there seemed to be a system developing. Men with fancy coats or suits and an education were the ones that had power, they took the spotlight from the other people I considered heroes, or innovators in history. Like they say, history repeats itself, and those same men in fancy coats are still here today, different names, and same story. Continuing the system passed down generation from generation.

Don’t get me wrong, school and life have its fun times. I love learning; it’s society I’m mad at. I don’t like inequality, or the idea of doing something just one-way. I don’t like the fact that you need to do certain things to be noticed or taken into consideration as a being in existence in this world. Why isn’t the world equal to being with? Our president is no different than you and me. His skin is just like ours, we breathe the same air, and we walk on the same earth.

There are people in other countries where equality is being challenged. I remember learning about some American Indians losing some of their land here in Arizona... this whole discrimination thing happens even here in the US. Are indigenous people any different than you or me? I don’t think so, then why are they disrespected? Why are they considered outsiders compared to the “average citizen”? What makes them so different? Are we just jealous because they were here first? There are just some things you can’t learn in school...

I’m not looking to join some organization or group, I want a way, a method of being able to change the world and make it a bit fairer for those who are discriminated. I wonder if there’s anyone like that in our world. Heck, I’d join them. Better than trying to let some predictable politicians do it...

              (She falls asleep for a little while, she wakes up after a couple of seconds or so)

I’m not tired! I have to stay awake, Bob; my favorite stand up comic is going to be on in a while.

(Flips herself around in the bed)

I wonder how Dora feels about this. The whole inequality thing I mean. She’s been my friend since forever! Her mom brought her here when she was little, and they’ve been living in the US for a long time. There’s been a lot of talk about immigration recently, I know that her mom’s an illegal immigrant, I’d be worried if the government was trying to get rid of my mom from this piece of land I call home!

Jeez... to be put under that much pressure everyday. I’ll have to look into that more, Bob. Take note!

(Ellen starts pacing around her room)

Ready? AHEM! Note to self: Research some stuff about helping not only undocumented people, but people who are discriminated and do something about it!

(Jumps to her bed and starts watching TV, Points remote to TV and yawns.)

That’s all for today Bob, I’ll reflect tomorrow morning I’m tired and now, time to watch my favorite late night show.

Act 1 – Scene 3

(Subcomandante Marcos is writing in his journal, during his 2006 campaign throughout México, he is sitting down on the back of a truck, he speaks his thoughts as he writes)

MARCOS

May 3, 2006

it has been a couple of months since this campaign started, it’s been a brutal quest to find friendships and respect.

As I walk in the same territory as my adversaries, I’ve not only encountered people who might be against our ideas, but people within their system who support us.

They encourage us to bring peace to this land, which was once governed by actual people, not blinded bats seeing only power and money.

We want to bring peace not only for our indigenous brothers and sisters, but for the many different people who inhabit this place we call home.

Human discrimination has been a sin inside us for many years, like a dirty jewel, once clean and lustrous, then smudges and unable to be returned to perfection.

Many of us have been discriminated at one point in our lives.

Whether it is because we are homosexual, male, female, or we support a cause, it is our duty to unite... and stand as one.

This is why I’m on this long lasting journey.

I thirst for the feeling of synergy and justice.

I wish for the term “inequality” to disappear for every single Human being on this Earth.

I want to take the pillars that make up this capitalist world, and take it down.

Then rebuild it...with the thought of everyone in mind, and the every other person out there.

(Marcos stops writing; he looks up at the sky with longing look on his face)

One day...

Act 1 – Scene 4

(Javier looks out of the window in his office. There is a protest outside; he stares at the massive group of people.)

JAVIER

Look at all those people... they have no idea how dimwitted they look like. They’re acting like savages. That’s all they are, savages! They know nothing about how this world runs, and how hard it is to maintain it the way it is. Complaining won’t fix anything.

(JAVIER Walks away from the window sits in his desk)

They always come here to city hall and protest. Yelling won’t help you at all... they’re always complaining about the same thing too. They want equality or whatever fits their standards these days...

(Raises his voice)

They can’t have equality!

(Slams his fist on the desk; he hears the chanting going on outside, Javier calms down. Speaks in a more calm tone.)

It simply can’t be done. Not everyone can be equal... that’d take...CENTURIES!

They don’t know how much malice I have towards them... I’d take this desk and throw it right at them if I could, but that’s probably what they want me to do. It’s too much effort to satisfy these people. It’s like talking to stupid kids!

(Pauses)

Unfortunately it’s my job as mayor to keep city alive and running. The only thing standing in my way of doing that job are those people out there. They’re my problem... unfortunately. I put too much work into trying to suit their needs. It’s taking time away from my responsibilities...

They’re keeping me away from the only time I have with my kids. As much as I am the mayor to these people, I’m a parent to my children, my wife’s husband. I don’t wish to act so brutal against these people. But I have priorities. They do not understand this game we’re all playing, this game of life.


                        (Sound of door opening in the background, Javier doesn’t bother looking.)

No Sandra, I don’t want anything. I’ll be going home in a bit... thank you anyway. Why don’t you leave early today? It’s good to be at home with your family while you still can.

                           (Javier goes back to talking with himself)

They’re walking around, causing mischief, just because some people get treated differently than others. All you have to do to be part in this world is get a job and be part of the work force. Anyone who doesn’t participate in the way this world is supposed to work can go rot and die by their own means. That includes any rebels, “indigenous” people, or any other hippie out there.

                       (He keeps staring. Thunder noise in the background, it’s beginning to rain)

Oh my, it’s starting to rain. I better get going. The scene will look more violent in the rain. The weather will take care of them though. But they’ll be back the next day, and the next. There’s a never-ending feud between power and people. To be honest, one can’t live without the other, I have a responsibility for these people, not all of their demands can be met, but without them, my job is meaningless. Without them there isn’t anything for us to control, or to “dominate” as they say. We all have a good person inside us all; some of us just chose to be the way we are because of what we do.

It comes down to this raging protesters, I could care less if we both hate each other to the bone. But I look at my daughter and care so much; I hope she never has to see the tainted world we live in.

Act 1 – Scene 5

(Inez is looking at the Zapatistas; She’s holding a doll made of various cloths.)

INEZ

(To her doll)

Hey, do you know who those people are?

(Pauses)

I don’t have a clear answer either.
Why do they wear those masks, most importantly, why do we cheer for them?
Papa started wearing a mask like those people. They all talk about things like equality, and justice. Things Mama says I don’t understand yet.
One day I asked Mama about the men with the masks on. She told me there are people who want to change the rules of how we live by. Mama kept talking. She told me about the “government” and other words I couldn’t understand. One of them was “revolution”.
My Mama said that they want to be like a man that was in a revolution a long time ago. That man fought for people who couldn’t defend themselves and wanted things to be fair. “Zapata was his name, and this legacy he left behind are the Zapatistas” Mama said.
Are the masked men fighting for the same kind of “fair” Emiliano thought of?
Are they fighting for the same reason my friends and family are fighting for?
I’m young; I won’t understand anything for a long time, Inez, that’s what everyone tells me. But what I DO know is that when the time comes, I’ll know whether it’s worth it to put a mask on my face.

Growing up, I thought being independent at a young age was bad because I felt as though my parents weren’t able to help me. Being home alone and trying to sometimes raise yourself can be difficult. I remember after finishing the homework everyone at school called “hard” during the first grade, I used to sit around in a variety of positions in my couch until I was pooped and eventually thought something else to do in my leisure time. Going to school was the only “pizzazz” thing in my life.
 As I was carrying my navy blue and red backpack through the filthy halls of my elementary school, I walked up the steps to the dull, boring classrooms that I spent my 6 ½ hours in. While going up the staircase, an evil looking boy named Talib say to me, in a very simple sentence. “You’re going to die”. That idea persisted in my head and replayed itself throughout the rest of the day. Death was beginning to be my new phobia. I can’t explain why I felt that way. Or why it scared me even if I knew that eventually we all had to encounter this mysterious event called death.
    I didn’t really know how to react to that the time. Keeping it to myself, and thinking about it over and over, time after time made me insane! “Hey are you okay?” people would ask, as I looked at them with a ditzy look in my hazel eyes which eventually turned into purple hypnotic swirls eyes of a crazy child.
    Mom and Dad were the ones who put me into psychotherapy.  All the counseling was a waste of time in my opinion. I was deeply disappointed in myself for not being able to be stable. But it made me feel better that I had someone to play board games with every Saturday. To me, whoever was on the other side of the Monopoly board, was considered a friend and that friend’s name was Rachael.  The reason I felt Rachael was a friend was because even though I knew she was pretending to care about my problems, she did it in a friendly manner. Little by little the outcome of Talib’s words was decomposing, but I never went back to school as my old social self.
There were times I talked to my parents about my problems, just like any other kid would. We understood each other completely, we also understood each other so well, that sometimes my mom would go to the crowded schoolyard and start those embarrassing talks with the teacher before class.
As I went on to higher grades in school, there were things that Talib could have said, that didn’t hurt me. It’s as my life experience helped me change to who I am today. I no longer needed mom talking to teachers because I was simply to “old” for that, even though other kids my age at that time went home crying because someone said they had a wig on.
    I knew I was a bit different, when I looked at the insanities my friends used to do, I felt responsible for any injuries. Some told me I was scared to do it because I was always the “good kid”. I was far from being a good kid, I did do little sinister things, and held malice towards people I didn’t like, but only to the people I thought that deserved it. The real reason I didn’t do those idiotic endeavors was because I knew people didn’t expect things like that from me. I kept learning in everyday life, and started to comprehend that the reason I was taught to be an independent kid, was to make up for the lack of presence of my hardworking parents. So maybe I could eventually tell the difference between righteous rightness and wicked wrongness, and avoid having to complain about why my parents cant let me do this, or that. Today, they see me as a successful experiment, they trust me with things like staying home alone for hours, and finally this year my mom trusts me 79% with the stove (because last year I opened a can of sprite with a pot of boiling water). I turned out okay, my parents only wish they could do the same with my younger and ignorant brother.

Jesús Jimenez
Language Autobiography

    I’ve never been able to hold on to that wild horse that was my identity, during grade school. Being Mexican-American gave me a good sense of pride and a certain type of secureness that my parents couldn’t provide in my young life. Identifying who I was back then was a feat that at the time was too much pressure for an second grader. Stereotypes were something that messed up my social life, leading me into conclusions about who I needed to be.
    My second grade class was filled with Cambodians, African-Americans, and many other people you would find in South Philly. I was the only Mexican that I know that attended my school at the time. And a lot of people looked at me as if I was something else, they thought I was a person who jumped a border to come to this country, the way the media presented it. The reality was, that I was the kid that lived down your block and and has been living there since living there since forever. Back at that point in time at school, we read stories about people in the huge textbooks, you know, the ones bigger than your face. And once in a while, we got to a story that had a hispanic child struggling in the Bronx. You don’t know how many times I’ve read that story, each in a different incarnation. Anyway, I’ve always compared my life to those stories, often referring to them as fiction. The other kids in the classroom always looked at me at the end of every story, having the idea in their heads that I was this hispanic boy who spoke to his abuelita in Spanglish. It wasn’t like that at all. Kids sometimes went up to me and asked me “How do you say “@#$&%” in Spanish. Of course I knew Spanish, but there was a certain feel when they asked me that. Disgust and dirtiness of telling them the word to satisfy their curiosity felt like all the bad things in Pandora’s box coming at me, but the pride and knowing something they wanted to know felt kind of like, I was better than them. I know it sounds horrible saying I’m better than someone but that’s the I way I felt then. My Mom even explained the equality of every person to me once, but sometimes her definitions don’t exactly match those of society’s.

“Hijo, ningun humano es mejor que otro” meaning “Son, no human is better than another.” is what my mother said.
It’s the truth in my opinion, but sadly I contradicted this lesson I was given... and it felt good. It had given me a huge ego and felt exactly like the time spiderman got his new suit with venom.
The whole translating words thing ended quickly, it was basically a fad. I kind of established that I was bilingual after the 10th translated word or so. Kids didn’t care anymore after a while. 
Time passed and eventually I got to Middle School, where kids start growing hair in all the wrong places and you make the dramatic change from a cubby to a locker. My motivation to do good in school was now structured from a “I want to get out of here!” feeling. People saw me as “smart” although I just figured “I’m not smart, you guys are just too lazy.”
    Middle School actually was the time where I started using Spanish more, I helped translate for my parents during parent teacher conferences, more Spanish speaking students came to our school, so I was kind of used as a resource tool to those who didn’t feel comfortable speaking English. I attracted many Latinos/Hispanics in my school community. But when they started asking to be my friend and go to their birthday parties, that became an issue with me. I personally, didn’t want to be friends with them. I didn’t like seeing myself fitting in with them, and I didn’t feel like fitting in, they were just too stereotypical. Stereotypes are something I can’t stand. Even with my hatred for stereotypes, I somehow became friends with them, unwillingly. But I managed to have a small number of these “friends”, even with that small number there still came trouble.
So one day this boy named Gustavo walks up to me,
“Jesús! Como estas guey?”
“Hey! Estoy bien... que pasa?
“Mira..” I’m not going into the whole conversation, but the point is that my group of friends want me to choose between them and my new friends I just met a couple days ago.
Anyway, then a kid named Pablo comes over and says to Gustavo...
“Guey, que le dices a mi compa?”
“I’m your compa?” I said suspiciously.
“Claro! Si tu...” Then Pablo gets “Kanyed” by Gustavo.
Again, I don’t want to go into too much detail about what they said. They insulted each other and  almost got into a fight. Over me. This whole “friendship” thing was getting out of control, the least I wanted was to get into a fight myself. I was literally like watching two kids fight over a toy. Maybe that’s what I was to them, a toy, a novelty. It was the same reason why all the kids made me do all the work in group projects, why I let kids copy from my quizzes, and why Gustavo and Pablo were fighting over me. If I was just going to be liked for being “smart”, and be used as a statistic for school or the school district, I didn’t want any part of this. I wanted to leave everything behind. My Mexican identity, my American identity, my smartness, my Spanish, everything! I was ashamed of who I was because it confused me about what I wanted for myself. If speaking a second language proved kids to be smart and get an education, and getting a GOOD education was rare for Mexican-Americans as a statistic, then I was already half way done being on either side of the scale. I couldn’t help it.

    It wasn’t until my 8th grade year where I didn’t care at all. My language and identity were something I didn’t care for anymore. I was simply just another student, and didn’t care about my grades, I just let them come naturally. I think I was covered in a veil, and it didn’t let me see how this whole identity thing works. It’s not bad and it’s not good either. It’s the in between thing that kind of classifies us where we need it. The language I spoke was a huge benefit, that I didn’t realize existed. No, it wasn’t translating slang to immature kids, it was communicating between people. It’s alright if I didn’t use it in my younger years, what mattered was that I knew that it is a part of me.
    As I progressed in my school life, I’ve gotten time to think. Now, as I write this language autobiography, it seems I went through a lot of reflection to get to where my mind is now. The Jesús Jimenez that existed in elementary and middle school changed a lot. Want to know what I think now? Well, now I think my identity isn’t what I feel like that I want to be, that comes after I’ve accomplished something that makes people recognize me for that. Spanish is part of my identity, I speak it at home, with Mrs. Hirschfield, and whenever I help my friends with spanish homework. It’s a skill that I’ve gained through interacting with my environment. It’s part of my history. Being a Mexican-American living in Philadelphia gives my life a little twist and excitement, and people aren’t sure about me and it gives me something to talk about when they get to know me. A big difference between then and now, is that I’m glad that I’m a spanish speaking Mexican. Because without that identity, I wouldn’t or couldn’t continue being me.

By: Martha Robles and Jesús Jimenez